RUBBISH ON THE RUNWAY

ROGER HULL before lift-off we were mildly alarmed to spot a by-now-familiar puff of dust approaching from the left. Surely this time he knew about us? Apparently not.

I can now safely confirm that the time it takes to land a plane, take on a passenger, turn around and take off again is exactly the same amount of time it takes to tip the rubbish and return to town. As our pilot pulled back sharply on the joystick was that dull thud the sound of wheel on roof?

Relieved, the seven adventurers proceeded on their journey, unaware of the second drama awaiting us.

Reports of improved visibility in the Springbok dust storm turned out to be premature. By the time we arrived at our destination, Springbok was completely hidden behind an extensive dust cloud. The wind speeds in the eye of the storm were peaking at 160km/h.

This time our intrepid pilot had no alternative but to attempt a landing solely on instruments. Shouting loudly over his shoulder, he explained to his anxious but now battle-hardened passengers that he would be aided by the occasional clearings of cloud.

“What I have to do is, using instruments, position the plane in an easterly direction over the landing strip at a height of about five metres and an airspeed of 160km/h. When the storm clears for a brief moment I shall drop the plane onto the runway. I will do two practice runs beforehand.”

After two practice runs, our confidence in our squadron leader was so high that, when it came to the real thing, the mild bump when we touched down and discovered we were stationary was something of an anticlimax.

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